


MerlinWATGame: NSFW Team 1!

by Dylan_m, fifty_fifty, MerlinWATMod (ViridianJane)



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Bondage, Digital Art, Hair-pulling, Light Dom/sub, M/M, NSFW, Spanking, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-21 19:11:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16582385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dylan_m/pseuds/Dylan_m, https://archiveofourown.org/users/fifty_fifty/pseuds/fifty_fifty, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViridianJane/pseuds/MerlinWATMod
Summary: Merlin gets a little tied up, and Arthur's a possessive prat.





	1. Art: Monoka

**Author's Note:**

> Here is NSFW Team 1, all done! Well done and congratulations to all participants, I hope you guys enjoyed playing!
> 
> Again, a reminder as to how this works: each piece, with the exception of the first, was created based on, and only on, the one before it. This allows for some fun twists and turns by the end of the story!
> 
> Chapter one is art by Monoka, who you can find on tumblr at mon0ch.tumblr.com!


	2. Fic: Anonymous

“One of these days, Merlin, you’re going to learn to be silent when I tell you to.” Arthur strolls lazily around his room, studying his servant. There’s drool on his chest from the fruit in his mouth, dripping on the leather bindings across his torso, and he’s shaking. But the defiance in his eyes has not dimmed, and Arthur cannot allow it. Even now, on his knees on the cold stone floor, his chin is held high and his eyes do not leave Arthur.

“Is it really so hard for you to just do as I ask, in front of the council?” Arthur studies Merlin, waits for any sign of a response, but Merlin remains still. Arthur strokes a hand through Merlin’s hair, tightening at the base and pulling his head back. Still, Merlin makes no noise.

It had been rather simple to get his servant to strip, to get him into the leather binding that crossed over his chest, bound his arms to his torso, and disappeared between his legs. The metal hooks between his pectorals and above his navel gleamed against Merlin’s pale flesh, and it was almost too easy, in a way. It makes Arthur nervous, makes his belly tight, but Merlin had simply bent to his knees on the floor of Arthur’s chambers and hadn’t struggled when Arthur bound him. The apple in his mouth had been an impulsive thing, when Merlin had smirked and gone to say something.

Arthur sighs, heavily. Now that his servant is quiet, is complacent, he doesn’t know what to do. How to proceed. He hadn’t really considered anything when he had ordered Merlin to his chambers, commanded him to strip. All he wanted was to embarrass him the way he had embarrassed Arthur. And to keep him quiet and still, for just a moment. That’s what he tells himself anyway. “Must you always be so defiant in the eyes of others?”

Merlin cocks his head, the first movement since Arthur had finished binding him. As far as punishments, Arthur isn’t exactly sure what inspired this one, except a _need_ to contain his servant. Now, he leans over and drags a hand across the leather over Merlin’s belly, nails scratching at the hair there, feeling the muscles tense.

“I should have put you in the stocks. Let the whole of Camelot see you.” Merlin huffs a noise, and his eyelids flutter. Arthur would put him in the stocks, except he doesn’t want to share. The hand in Merlin’s hair drifts down to his neck, thumb absently stroking over his pulse point. He can feel Merlin swallow.

“I supposed you’ve learned something, though I doubt you’ll obey me still.”  Arthur goes to remove the apple, but Merlin’s jaw tightens around it, eyes glossy. It’s the first time Arthur notices the flush to his skin, the way he’s got a sheen of sweat. He frowns, gently tugs at the fruit with the hand not on Merlin’s neck.

Merlin groans, and Arthur’s brows shoot up. He steps back when Merlin shifts, knees parting a little more and suddenly Arthur _sees_.

“Heaven, but you’re enjoying this?” Arthur studies Merlin who doesn’t make another noise. He simply arches up a little more, trying to put the whole of him on display.

Arthur swallows, once, loud in the quiet of the room, and he steps forward again, a finger stroking over the bindings on Merlin’s chest, catching on a nipple. Merlin keens, a noise high in his throat, and Arthur frowns. He lets his hands roam over the pale skin of his servant, surprised at the firmness of muscles he hadn’t realized were there.

Merlin holds himself very still, lets Arthur explore, and doesn’t make a sound. “Merlin, you have to let me know if you’re okay with this.”

Arthur doesn’t know why he’s asking, what he’s doing, but when Merlin groans low in his throat and bucks his hips, Arthur laughs.

“If you wanted this, Merlin, there were easier ways to ask.” Arthur says this while he lets his hands stroke over the planes of Merlin’s back, scratching and searching. The leather bindings keep impeding his hands though, and he frowns. He goes to undo the buckle at Merlin’s chest but Merlin whines, pulls back as much as he can. Arthur gently swats him on his upper arm, and Merlin freezes with a sharp intake of breath. “Trust me.”

He releases Merlin, but his servant maintains his position. Arthur rolls his eye. “I need to be able to touch you, to move you.” Merlin holds his wrists out for Arthur with an inquiring gaze, and Arthur snorts. “The one time you’re actually compliant...” He undoes his own breeches and uses the laces to bind his wrists, though cannot fathom why _that’s_ what gets Merlin going.

He motions towards the bed. To the best of his abilities, Merlin leverages himself up and makes his way towards the four poster. He hesitates a moment and then climbs up, balancing himself on his knees, facing Arthur. Arthur shakes his head and makes a motion with his hands, and Merlin shuffles so that his back is turned. He glances over his shoulder with that bloody apple still lodged between his teeth and his hands bound before him in Arthur’s laces. It does something funny to Arthur, sends a warmth shooting down his spine. Merlin’s eyes gleam as if he knows, and Arthur growls at him.

He makes quick work of his own clothes and then he’s stepping towards Merlin, hands stroking the straps around his belly, chasing the few moles on Merlin’s chest with the tips of his fingers, tugging at Merlin’s curls. He gets one hand around the base of Merlin, and it earns him a sharp but muffled cry. “For the sake of—“ Arthur leans forward and bites the apple, and the action so shocks Merlin, he releases it. Arthur spits the fruit to the floor and grins, triumphant. “I want to hear you, Merlin.”

He raises a brow and goes to speak, but Arthur slides a calloused hand down the length of him so that the only noise Merlin makes is a guttural sound. “I want to hear what I do to you.”

He gently nudged at Merlin’s shoulder until his servant is awkwardly balanced on his knees and his elbows, bound wrists hanging just off the bed. Arthur keeps one hand between his legs, slowly stroking, thumb curving over the head. He uses the other to trace down the planes of Merlin’s back until he reaches pert globes and he slides a finger through the crack. Merlin clenches his teeth and huffs and it makes Arthur laugh. He removes both of his hands, and Merlin whines. Arthur gives him a sharp smack to the base of his spine. “Be patient.”

He goes and retrieves a small jar of oil from a loose stone near the base of his bed. He’s rewarded by a strangled noise from Merlin. “You don’t know all of my secrets.”

Merlin is still bent forward, shoulders shaking just a little. It’s the only time Arthur can remember his servant properly bowing. “Are you alright?”

Merlin doesn’t say anything, just moves his hips a little. Arthur rubs a hand on the base of his spine. “I need a word, here, Merlin.”

“Please.”  It comes out breathless and Arthur nods, though Merlin cannot see it with his head hanging down. He is careful to slick his fingers liberally before tracing from the top of Merlin’s split to just above his balls. Merlin makes a keening noise once more, and Arthur has to press down with the hand on his spine to keep him from bucking back. For a long time he traces the same path, occasionally pausing to grip Merlin’s balls or to stroke the underside of his cock. Merlin’s chest begins heaving, and he’s whimpering.

Finally he looks back at Arthur, eyes blown wide and growls, “Do something!”

Arthur obliges, slipping one finger past Merlin’s rim. His servant freezes, so Arthur freezes, and then Merlin is growling at him again. Arthur is very careful to slide his finger in and out until Merlin is panting and writhing, and then without warning he slips the second finger in. Merlin groans, low and long, but there’s no sign of pain in it.

Arthur works him that way, with two fingers twisting and curling until Merlin is leaking all over his bedspread and there are small noises spilling from his throat in a continuous stream. Occasionally he’ll use his other hand to stroke Merlin, to catch some of the spill, but mostly he just enjoys watching him come undone on his fingers.

“I’m going to add a third one now.” He waits for Merlin to nod, and it takes a long moment for his servant to gather himself, but as soon as Arthur sees his head bob he slips the third finger in.

Merlin’s whole back arches and the noise he makes seems to come straight from his belly, and for a moment Arthur is afraid he’s done something wrong, but then Merlin is looking over his shoulder, pupils blown wide and he’s trying to speak, but he can’t.

Instead he fucks back against Arthur’s hand, begging. “Can you—“ Arthur hesitates. “Is this enough?”

Merlin is still staring at him, and Arthur can see the struggle as his brain tries to process the question, but then he’s nodding. He sinks his teeth into his lips and tries to suppress a whine when Arthur curls his fingers.

He must have hit that spot because Merlin’s whole body tenses and arches and he sucks in a sharp breath, eyes seeming to flash for a split-second. Arthur moves fast though, gripping him at the base once more, and Merlin half sobs as his hips buck and his belly convulses. “Not yet.”

Merlin writhes against his hand and Arthur curls his fingers against the spot again, relishing the way Merlin’s cock tenses and twitches in his hands. He could do this for hours, he realizes. Watch Merlin come undone this way.

“We have all night, Merlin.”

Merlin groans, glares at him over his shoulder, and goes to say something. Arthur cuts him off with a sharp flick of his wrist, a flexing of his fingers. “All night, Merlin.”


	3. Art: Dylan_mx




	4. Fic: Fifty

Merlin gathered his cloak closer, face well-hidden beneath his hood, stealing his way through the unsavoury parts of the lower town. It would not do for the king's manservant to be spotted here. Especially not emerging from this tavern that offered… _specialised services_. 

The soft wool of the hood rubbed against his face and Merlin pressed into it, inhaling deeply. It smelled _just like Arthur_. It felt like he could never escape from him. Even if Arthur never felt the same way, Merlin would always crave his king.

It was why Merlin did this, moving like a thief in the night to the brothel he frequented. There was a door around back, where a man would tup you. Or be tupped by you. Whatever your preference. Merlin liked both. The man was of reasonable height, with dark, sandy hair, similar to Arthur’s, but not the same. It could never be the same. On days when Merlin had had a particularly bad time with the knights and Arthur’s teasing, Merlin liked to tup. To fuck the man—Gregory—angrily, pretending he was punishing Arthur and the Knights for mocking him. In his fantasy, he liked to pretend the knights would protest at first, denying they were enjoying it, even though they both knew how much they liked to be fucked by him. But most of the time, Merlin preferred to be the one that was tupped. He liked to pretend that it was Arthur, though he knew in reality, Arthur did not feel that way. He liked to escape here and have Gregory to fuck him so hard, he couldn’t think about anything anymore. 

Tonight had been special. Merlin had been saving for weeks to treat himself. Tonight he had carried out a fantasy that he’d imagined for ages. Not just Arthur fucking him, but the Knights, too. He’d paid Gregory to provide some friends. One had longer dark hair, with a passing resemblance to Gwaine. There was also a tall man with reddish hair that he imagined to be Leon. They had all taken turns in fucking him, passing him around from one to the other until he was so blissed out and full that when he had finally come, he had passed out. Gregory had made sure he was okay, naturally. Merlin was one of his best customers. Now, half a candlemark later, he was heading back to his room, safely nestled in the physician’s tower.

He sighed as his thoughts turned back to Arthur. He was doomed to always think of him. Merlin wondered sometimes if Arthur actually _did_ feel something for him. They’d certainly shared enough heated looks. But these days, Arthur was so skittish and always shied away him. Even when Merlin dressed him, touching was minimal. Merlin wasn’t sure what he had done wrong.

Merlin pulled an apple from his satchel (sex always made him hungry). The guard eyed him suspiciously as he approached the gate, until a look of recognition appeared on his face.

“Ah, it’s you Merlin,” he said, moving aside.

“Yes, just… gathering herbs for Gaius.” Merlin grinned. It was a bit frightening how easily he could lie to people’s faces now. The bag he showed them actually contained his spell book plus a few other things, but he knew they wouldn’t search him. As the king’s manservant and the physician’s assistant, Merlin had free rein to do pretty much whatever he liked, whenever he liked, without getting questioned for it. It was something that he abused regularly. 

He walked through the gates into the courtyard, aware of the come leaking out, slowly trickling down one thigh. He clenched and was reminded of his soreness. He could still feel the cocks that had fucked him. He’d half a mind to just go straight to his room to sleep. But there was one more thing he wanted to do before he slept. Something necessary to complete the fantasy he’d imagined.

He made his way through the castle to Arthur’s rooms. Arthur was away visiting the southern borders, so Merlin knew he’d be safe. He was the only one with a key, except for Arthur. His hands trembled as he unlocked the door. Once safely inside he shed his cloak, and, apple in hand, he whispered a word. The lock slid smoothly into place and he hurried to remove the rest of his clothes, apple back in his mouth. He continued to eat as he approached Arthur’s bed, and bent down to sniff at the covers. He closed his eyes and inhaled Arthur’s scent. This was perfect. Just perfect. His hand drifted down to pump along his cock, already achingly hard.

He scrambled onto the bed. He had to touch, had to feel. He knelt on all fours, steadying himself as he reached behind to finger his abused hole. He groaned around the apple as he felt the men’s come there, trickling from him. His finger slid in easily and Merlin shivered with delight. He pumped his digit in and out, reveling in the slick squelch. He pushed in a second and third finger. It burned as his hole stretched to accommodate them, but it wasn’t enough. From this angle his fingers just weren’t long enough, they couldn’t _quite_ reach that special spot inside him. He wondered if there was some other way to reach it. He knew that women had phalluses that they sometimes used to pleasure themselves, and eventually Merlin had worked up the nerve to ask Gregory to procure one for him. But it wasn’t the same as someone working you open with their fingers and stuffing you full with their cock. He still had to reach back and do all the work.

Merlin had had a long day fetching, carrying and being a general dogsbody for Arthur. He was still coming down from the high of his treat and it left him feeling tired and lazy. With a sigh, he dropped the apple on the bed and pulled his fingers out, collapsing forward. He leaned his head over and summoned his bag towards him. With his free hand, he tugged out his magic book. He flicked through the pages until he found the loose sheet he was looking for, tucked between the spell for cleaning stubborn stains and one using flowers to enhance poison remedies.

He ran his finger down the page and tried to memorise the exact pronunciation. It was so much easier to get the hang of spells now than it had been when he’d first started. He’d always known how to read the language of the Old Religion. His mother had taught him to read and write it on a slate in their hut, along with the new language. But having so many spells to learn fueled his enthusiasm even more.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts. He didn’t want to think about _that_. Instead, he thought back to the room above the tavern. The fucking had been amazing. But it left him craving more. Merlin grinned as he glanced over the spell once more before closing the book. He hid it underneath the bed. Explaining why he was naked and fingering himself on the king’s bed would be hard enough, let alone explaining a book of magic. 

The first time he tried, the spell didn’t work. Merlin huffed in frustration and repositioned himself. Sometimes he had to practice a bit and focus on the words, _will_ the spell into being. Give it life with his magic. 

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and tried again. He spoke the words, deep and resonating in Arthur’s voluminous chambers, with purpose and desire, commanding the magic to bend to his will. He let out a small yelp of surprise when he felt strong, calloused hands rub firmly up and down his buttocks. Then he chuckled. He’d done it; he’d actually done it. He focused his thoughts, commanding the errant hands. All he had to do was imagine and the phantom hands would comply. One of the hands gave his arse a hard slap, and he gasped as the pain blossomed across the cheek. Yes, that was good. He imagined it again and hissed through his teeth as he jerked forward from the force.

“Yes, yes,” he murmured. “Yes, Arthur. Give it to me.”

He often uttered Arthur’s name when he was with Gregory. Gregory was discreet; Merlin paid him well to make sure of it. But he didn’t trust the other men. They were from outside Camelot, so likely wouldn’t have recognised him, but he still hadn’t dared to do it lest they made the connection and it got back to Arthur. But here, safely locked away in the king’s chambers, he could say what he liked, moan what he liked without consequences.

A phantom hand struck him again, and he cried out, pressing his face into the covers murmuring, “Yes, yes,” as a finger started to trace slowly, teasingly, around his hole. Merlin tried to imagine Arthur’s face whilst he did this. Kneeling behind him, fingers teasing Merlin’s hole. He felt one of them breach him in a sudden, rough movement and groaned, arching his back trying to urge the finger deeper.

He heard an answering moan behind him and felt a pressure against his back. Merlin held still as the man’s breath, hot and moist, panted against his cheek.

“You, Merlin, have a _lot_ of explaining to do.”

Shit. That was Arthur, he’d know his voice _anywhere_. How was Arthur here?

“I don’t know how this happened, nor do I particularly care why. That’s for later. Just look at you... bent over on my bed with this well-fucked hole. Waiting for me,” purred Arthur’s voice, thick with desire. 

The finger plunged in and out of his hole and in the back of his mind, Merlin realised that it was actually Arthur’s, because he certainly hadn’t told the hands to do _that_. Merlin cried out as Arthur started stroking a special spot inside him.

“How many of them?” Arthur asked gently.

Merlin shook his head against the velvet covers. “They don’t mean anything!” he blurted out.

“How. Many.”

“One—” 

Merlin’s eyes widened and he gasped as the sound of flesh-on-flesh reverberated around Arthur’s room. His arse flaring with pain that reverberated down his spine, leaving him throbbing.

“Don’t.”

_Slap_. Merlin cried out at the fresh burst of agony, his back arching as he tried to tuck in his arse to avoid another smack.

“Lie. To me, Merlin!”

He spanked Merlin again, and the pain was overwhelming. Merlin’s arse throbbed with it, along with his cock as pleasure and pain pooled in his groin.

“Three!” Merlin whimpered. “It was three.”

Arthur chuckled, and the way he ran his hands over Merlin’s sore arse was both heavenly, with blooming of new, aching pain, and hellish with its torture. 

“You little slut. And yet, you still crave more. Look at the way your hole _clings_ to me,” Arthur cooed as he pushed another finger in and moved his hand in and out, his words sounding foreign to Merlin’s ears. Then his voice turned harsh, and he practically growled, “I just want to lick you clean of their seed and pump you full of mine.” He twisted his fingers viciously and Merlin cried out at the suddenness of it. “You are mine, Merlin. Mine. Now that I’ve got my hands on you, I _forbid_ you to see these men anymore. Understood?”

Merlin startled. Stop seeing Gregory? He needed it, he needed someone to fuck him, to allow him the fantasy of an actual relationship with Arthur. Merlin knew what they were doing now was merely some kind of magic-induced fantasy. Once Arthur came back to himself, unhindered by the spell, he would realise just what they’d done and he would hate Merlin. He was sure of it.

“Merlin,” said Arthur warningly. He thrust his fingers inside in time with his words. “You. Will. _Promise me_.”

The action had Merlin gasping, clawing at the bedsheet as he saw stars. Suddenly, Arthur’s other hand smacked his left cheek, and Merlin cried out again—the pain was too much, too overwhelming, but _oh so good_. Arthur hit him again, harder, and Merlin dug his fingernails into velvet, hissing. Arthur spanked again, then again, and soon Merlin started to lose count of the blows altogether. His brain was fogged by the excruciating pain as his arse burned and another blow landed. He cried out, over and over again, until he was sobbing and tears started streaming down his face. Until finally he was able to gasp out, “I—I pr-promise. I promise!”

Finally Arthur stopped, and his smooth, calm voice was like a balm to Merlin.

“Good. From now on, you live for my cock. And my cock _alone_. Understood?”

Merlin whimpered, his head hanging between his shoulders. Arthur shoved a third digit into his hole and crooked them.

“Understood?” Arthur asked him sternly, his hand tracing over the hot, red skin.

“Yes!” Merlin cried out. “Just for you, Arthur. _Only for you_.”

“Good. Stay here.”

Suddenly the fingers were gone, and Merlin moaned, bereft, pressing his forehead against the covers of his master’s bed. He stilled and listened eagerly for Arthur’s next move.

“So, you can obey orders then?” asked Arthur, his voice amused.

Merlin bristled, his body tensing with anger. Arthur reached out and pressed his hand to the small of Merlin’s back.

“Aww, don’t be like that, Merlin. Let me take care of you. I’ll fuck you so open and so deep that all others will be a distant memory. You’re mine now, and _I will take care of you_.”

Merlin squeezed his eyes shut. If he could just keep quiet and not talk back—even though Arthur was being a prat—then Arthur would give him exactly what he wanted. He waited patiently, digging his fingers into the sheets, and focused on his simmering annoyance at Arthur. It would be worth it.

“You can be quiet as well, hmm?” chuckled Arthur. 

A faint whistling noise disturbed the stillness of the room and a resounding _smack_ echoed around it once more. Merlin’s eyes flew open at the noise, and then his mouth opened around a silent exclamation, barely even a gasp, as searing pain shot through his right buttock.

“Very well done,” praised Arthur, trailing the cool leather of implement he’d hit Merlin with—a riding crop—up and down the small of his back.

There was another whoosh and the crop cracked against his skin. It was harder than before, and zings of pleasure mixed with staggering heat and pain shot up Merlin’s spine. He bit back a moan.

“Oh, yes,” said Arthur, bringing down the crop again. The leather strangely cool for a moment against the heated skin of Merlin’s arse. Merlin gasped and whined at the back of his throat.

Arthur dropped the crop on the bed and rubbed his hands over Merlin’s abused backside. Merlin squirmed. The pain was good, but it wasn’t enough. Arthur slid his hand along the cleft of Merlin’s arse and thrust two fingers back in without warning. Merlin cried out and received a spank to his sore arse as a consequence. He choked as the pain flared through him again in throbbing waves.

“I like you like this, Merlin. I might add this to your duties. What do you think? To be ready and waiting for me, naked and on your hands and knees, when I return to my chambers. Ready to please me and have your little bottom spanked until it’s Pendragon red and sore, and you’re begging me to fill you up with my cock.”

Arthur paused. There was a rustle of clothing. The bed dipped behind Merlin and his heart raced with anticipation. He felt something big and blunt pressing against his hole.

“You know, I can’t decide what I should do. Should I clean you out and fill you up?” He pushed a finger back into Merlin, and Merlin couldn’t help the whine that escaped. “Oh, look how hungry your hole is, Merlin. You’re loving this. I bet you’d love to have my cock inside you always, wouldn’t you? Sitting on it whilst I was on the throne. Riding me whilst I took council at the round table. Letting everyone know that you’d do _anything_ to have me. Do you want me, Merlin?”

Merlin moaned. “Yes, yes, you p-prat. _Please_ , I need—”

“You do,” Arthur agreed. “And I shall give it to you.”

Arthur pulled out his finger and replaced it with his cock, pressing in against the initial resistance until he was sliding all the way in. Merlin keened, his back arching. “Oh Gods, oh Gods!”

Arthur’s hand fisted into Merlin’s hair, yanking Merlin’s head up as he started to thrust his hips. The pace was brutal. In-out, in-out, in-out. A litany of bitten off curses and groans spilled helplessly from Merlin’s lips. He gasped, eyes going wide, and reared back towards Arthur as he tugged sharply on Merlin’s hair. Pain seared in his scalp and his eyes rolled back in his head at the sensation and the fucking of his sensitive, abused hole.

“Mine, mine,” muttered Arthur as he took Merlin. “Remember this. You are—mine!” He spilled hot and wet inside Merlin, grunting, and then finally reached around and grasped Merlin’s cock. It didn’t take much. Merlin was already keyed up, overwhelmed from spanking and fucking and Arthur’s goddamned voice. Arthur stripped his cock and Merlin cried out as the tension that had been building in his groin spilled over and shot out of him, painting the king’s red velvet sheets white.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for participating! This was the last team from the summer round of MerlinWATGame (and I apologize for being so late!!)


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